


Borrowed Parts

by darkdream253



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: M/M, Mild Language, Missing Limbs, Partial Nudity, Prosthetics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 23:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4038049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkdream253/pseuds/darkdream253
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grif takes a good look at his new parts for the first time. Meanwhile, Simmons is having trouble adjusting to his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Borrowed Parts

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know much about missing limbs or prosthetics, but I did do a bit of research on the subject. Still, sorry in advance if something is off or if it offends anyone.
> 
> Takes place a short time after Grif's tank accident.

Grif couldn't help but stare in the mirror. It was the first time he'd actually looked in a mirror since the accident. He was stitched up in a lot of places, contrasting where pale skin met tan. His left arm and leg were both longer than the other, though the leg problem was corrected by a platformed shoe. His face didn't look like his own anymore, most of the left side pale and freckled while the right was still his natural dark tan.

He remembered Simmons mumbling an apology to him after the accident. He couldn't fathom why he'd apologize. If anything, Grif should apologize to him. He'd had taken half his body, leaving him with metal where it once was. “What do you have to apologize for? You didn't do anything.” Grif couldn't even look him in the eyes, feeling guilty.

The question must have surprised Simmons, as it took him a moment to answer. “For the… freckles,” he answered and now it was Grif’s turn to be confused,” I know you probably think they're ugly.”

“You're kidding me, right?” Grif raised an eyebrow, risking a glance towards Simmons, who didn't say a word,” I don't mind. Freckles are adorable.”

“W-what?!” Simmons had an incredulous look on his face now and his voice had cracked. He looked away and Grif could see his face was red. “Why would you say something like that?!”

Grif laughed a bit, aggravating his wound and causing him to hiss in pain. Simmons looked guiltily towards him, eyes tracing over the bandages covering the areas he'd been stitched together. “Why wouldn't I? You really think your freckles are ugly?”

Simmons looked away again, giving Grif his answer. Grif felt a bit bad about bringing it up as he saw Simmons' lips curl into a frown. He still felt bad about that now, looking into the mirror, following the same stitches that Simmons' eyes had looked over that day. They were healed now, leaving rather nasty scars, but he didn't mind.

His eyes reached back up to the eyes in the reflection in the mirror after a moment. The different colored eyes had thrown him off as well. The chocolate brown and green looked nice together to him, but him and Simmons had argued about it while he was still healing.

“I’m just saying that it's odd!” Simmons had nearly shouted. “One of your eyes is a natural color while the other is unnatural!”

“Neither of my eyes are unnatural!” Grif had tried to drive the point in. “Besides, you were the one who asked if I thought my eyes were weird! If you're just going to deny my opinion, don't ask!”

“But that shade of green is such an unnatural color! At least brown is natural!” Simmons had shouted this back to him, leaving him at a loss of words for a moment.

“I thought you meant my brown eyes were unnatural,” Grif finally replied,” Green isn't an unnatural color for eyes. If anything, brown is unnatural because it's too normal. Your eyes are deep and colorful, mine are just plain.”

Once again, Simmons just looked surprised at him. He mumbled something Grif didn't quite catch, looking away, but he felt he'd won the argument. Not that it mattered if he did or not, he knew he was right.

Another thing the two argued about was the fact that he should be wearing glasses to make sure Simmons' eye didn't get any worse. Simmons had given a pair of glasses he didn't wear anymore, the thick frames and lenses making Grif cringe. He couldn't imagine Simmons wearing these at any point, despite him being a nerd. Grif put the glasses on now. Even though they did make it easier to see out of the left eye, he couldn't stand to wear them for too long. They were way too dorky.

As he removed the glasses and put them somewhere he hoped to never see them again, his mind wandered back to the times he and Simmons argued after the accident. Simmons was always complaining about the way he looked or the way his body parts looked on Grif. Did he really have so little confidence in the way he looked?

"Grif, I need you to--," speaking of, here came the annoying nerd now, probably wanting him to do some stupid task for Sarge. He cut himself off as he came in, face now red as he saw Grif still standing in front of the mirror in nothing but a pair of boxers. "Grif, what are you doing?!"

Grif couldn't help but laugh as his voice raised at least three octaves. He mumbled something about it not being funny and Grif forced himself to stop laughing long enough to explain. “I was just looking at the new parts. I can't help it if I was a bit curious.”

“Whatever, Sarge wants you outside for something,” Simmons relayed his message, not even looking at Grif now,” He's waiting out in front of the base. Please, get dressed before you go out there.”

Before Grif could even complain, Simmons had already left, probably so he could get out there before Grif. Sometimes, Simmons could really frustrate him. He started to put his armor back on, which was harder than it looked with all the pieces it had. He figured it wouldn't hurt him to go see what Sarge wanted.

Simmons headed down the hall, towards his room instead of going outside. It wasn't his idea, Sarge ordered him inside after catching Simmons rubbing pain from his shoulder. Sarge said Simmons didn't need to help, that Grif could do it. He'd tried to argue he was fine, mostly knowing Grif wouldn't help, but Sarge insisted.

As soon as he was in his bunk, he was on his bed, trying to massage the pain from his shoulder where metal met skin, but it had worsened since he was outside and more had formed in his leg as well. He'd tried to hide the pain from Grif, which seemed to work well since the Hawaiian hadn't asked him about it. He didn't want to worry his teammate.

Grif headed out front to see Sarge waiting there as specified, the warthog right behind him. What he didn't see was a maroon soldier anywhere in sight to kiss his ass. So he asked as he sauntered over,” Where's Simmons?”

“What, 'r you crazy?” Grif was confused as Sarge shot off. “Yer gonna have him out here in this weather?”

There were a few dark clouds scattered across the sky above the canyon. It was nothing more than some clouds that would probably result in a drizzle later, which is what they usually got if it even did that. Though there was a big storm once every couple years and they were expecting one, but that still didn't explain a thing Sarge said.

“Sir, is he afraid of a little rain?” Grif's tone was sarcastic since he knew the answer. Simmons had never avoided the rain before, the only difference was that he was half metal. Grif was pretty sure Sarge just didn't want him to rust.

“No, ya moron,” Sarge snapped again,” Don't ya know what can happen t' someone with prosthetic limbs?”

“Is he going to rust?” Grif raised an eyebrow, having no idea what his commanding officer was on about.

“You really don't know about it?” Sarge's disappointed look was something Grif was used to. “It can happen t' some people who've lost limbs. Simmons' lost most o' his. It wouldn't 've affected you 'cause yer limbs 'r still organic, but him. He's probably gonna get some pain whenever there's a big weather change. Even just a drizzle could cause some discomfort.”

“And this is because of the robot parts you gave him?” Grif felt guilty he hadn't noticed when Simmons came to get him. Was he really that clueless about how Simmons was feeling?

“'Course it is,” Sarge said matter-of-factly,” It's a serious problem. This'll be his first time goin' through a storm. I'm not makin' him work through that pain.”

From what Sarge had said, it sounded serious. Grif wondered if he should go in and help him through it, since it was mostly his fault that Simmons was half robot now. He shouldn't let him go through that alone. That meant actually finishing his work first.

Simmons had given up on trying to get rid of the pain after awhile, now at the point where he could barely move because of the pain. It had been getting worse as the clouds above the canyon became more dense, the sky just gray now. There was a knock on his door and before he could tell him to go away, Grif walked in.

The orange soldier had come to see how Simmons was feeling, but not before surprising his commanding officer at how fast he could work when he wanted to. He could tell Simmons was in pain now, unlike when the other had come to his door.

“What are you doing here?” Simmons was trying to sound angry, but it was defeated by the pain etched across his features.

“I came here to see how you were feeling,” Grif sat on the edge of Simmons' cot,” Sarge told me that you're probably in pain and I figured since it's kind of my fault, I couldn't just let you go through that without help.”

“It's not your fault. I was the one who asked Sarge to save you no matter what it took.” Simmons was mostly trying to get Grif to leave, not wanting his fellow soldier to see him like this, but it was true. He'd practically begged Sarge to save him.

“Yeah, I guess I never really thanked you for that,” Grif rubbed the back of his neck,” Well, consider this my way of saying thanks for, you know, saving me and stuff.”

The answer given surprised the maroon soldier a bit and he just stared at Grif for a moment before saying,” I don't need you to help me. Look, I just want to be alone.”

“That's too bad, because you're stuck with me now,” Grif sat cross legged on the bed now, leaning back with a smug smile on his face,” I'm not leaving anytime soon.”

Simmons let out a heavy sigh. This was the usual behavior he'd come to expect from Grif. “Fine, stay if you want,” he gave in, not having much energy to argue anyway. Besides, he'd found out a long time ago it was almost impossible to get Grif to do anything he didn’t want to do.

Just at that moment, a crash of Thunder came from outside, Grif looking up then back to Simmons. “Sounds like the rain's gonna start soon,” Grif stated the obvious,” Good thing I'm here. I don't think you could deal with the pain in your fakey robo-iLimbs alone.”

“They're called prosthetics,” Simmons informed him, rolling his eyes.

“See? You're correcting me. You must be feeling better already!” Grif teased him with a lopsided grin.

It was then that he realized the pain had in fact lessened as they argued, though he'd never admit it. Instead, he took a sarcastic tone and replied,” Sure, I'm cured just like that.”

“I knew it! I must be some kind of healer!”

Simmons laughed at that comment, but the movement made the pain worse again and he grimaced. Grif had gone silent as soon as he did and Simmons turned to see a worried look on his face.

“Hey, I'm fine,” he told Grif,” I said I could handle it, didn't I? You don't need to worry, I can deal with a little pain.” He put on a smile to try and put Grif at ease.

“Yeah, sorry,” Grif had put on a smile as well, but there was still worry in his expression. Simmons didn't want him having to worry about something like this, but if he insisted on staying, he couldn't really stop him from getting worried.

The pattering of rain on the roof started not minutes after the two had talked. The storm showed no sign of stopping quickly like it usually did, the rain picking up as the minutes passed, a bit of thunder following along with it. It was pretty bad for Blood Gulch, despite the fact that it probably wasn't even going to amount to an inch of rain.

Of course, the pain in Simmons' body got worse as the storm did, Simmons curling up into himself in Grif's lap. Grif had an arm around him, trying his best to make him feel better, though he knew it didn't help. He hated seeing Simmons lying there, whimpering from the pain, and he couldn't do anything about it.

The storm went on for hours and it was late according to the clock on Simmons' wall. Grif had stayed up until Simmons' had relaxed a bit more and his breathing got soft. The nerd had fallen asleep now after all that, though Grif was happy he was alright. Sleep was starting to catch up with Grif now as well, the orange soldier letting out a yawn. He decided take to advantage of the fact that Simmons was better and get some sleep in, his arm still around him.

 

* * *

 

 

Simmons woke up the next morning, his mind foggy like he hadn't slept well. That wasn't something new to him, but the small pressure on his chest and the warmth beneath his cheek was. He looked to see Grif's arm around him, cradling Simmons' head in his lap.

His mind came back slowly, remembering he'd been in pain from the storm and Grif tried to help him through it. He must've gotten tired and fell asleep. He smiled, grateful he'd been willing to help, even though it didn't do much.

He got up off the small cot, which wasn't really big enough for two people, evident by the fact that Grif had ended up leaning against the wall while he slept. He moved to his desk and grabbed a small tool kit, figuring he may as well get to work while he was up.

Grif woke up almost an hour later, letting out a large yawn and stretching as he did. He immediately noticed Simmons was gone, finding him at his desk messing with his metal arm. “Something wrong with your arm?” He asked this as he rubbed his back a little since it hurt slightly from sleeping against the wall.

“No, not outright,” Simmons shook his head,” After last night, with my muscles tensing, I just wanted to make sure nothing loosened or tightened up. You know, just general maintenance.”

“Right, last night,” Grif was looking over Simmons' shoulder now,” I'm just glad you're feeling better. Anyway, I'll get out of your hair so you can do your nerd stuff.” He turned away and went towards the door, but was stopped by Simmons,” Wait.”

Grif turned back before Simmons spoke again,” I just wanted to say thanks... for staying last night.”

“Of course,” Grif had a small smile now.

“You could stay longer,” Simmons said, then got flustered,” I-I mean, if you want to, you're not bothering me, really.”

“Aw, I'm touched,” Grif teased, then answered,” Nah, I think I'm gonna get some breakfast.” However, in seeing Simmons' disappointment, he went on,” I could come back when I'm done though.”

Simmons had a smile after that and asked,” Actually, could you get me something too? Can't exactly make breakfast without my arm.”

Simmons was glad to have things back to normal. Grif didn't even try to tease him about how he'd been during the storm, which was appreciated. Simmons went back to work as he waited for Grif to return with the food, only to have it then held just out of reach right as he grabbed for it. Simmons shouted at him to give it back, the base filling up with they're usual chatter before Sarge ordered them to shut up and meet him outside on the double. Grif sighed and Simmons hurried his repairs to get out and they both fell in line, just as they always did.


End file.
